The most exciting thing that happened this week was crabs. Hermit crabs, that is. We picked a couple up at the local pet store during a dogfood run because they seemed like the perfect first pets and I don't remember the last time I saw Archer and Fable so stoked. I mean... HERMIT CRABS. ARE. AWESOME. Their little faces when the pet store men put their respective crabs in little to-go tupperwares was beyond. It took Fable ten minutes to get down the stairs with hers (named Jewel) because she didn't want to scare her by "walking too fast."

Archer talked to "William" the whole way home, petting his little crab shell and telling him all about the family he was about to join.

The kids spent all day Sunday with their faces pressed against the terrarium (a gift from HGTV Gardens, thanks guys!) which wasn't meant for hermit crabs, probably, but seems to be working out quite well.

Besides the dogs, which I've had since I was twenty, Archer and Fable have never had their "own pets" and for those of you looking to introduce your kids to entry-level pet care, hermit crabs are your jam. They are as low maintenance as it gets and so completely thrilling for the whole family. Last night, I got up to get a glass of water, turned on the light to find Jewel and William spooning on top of a vacant shell. Totally thrilling. Seriously.

We spent Saturday in Venice because we never go to Venice which is silly because it's a twenty minute drive and so completely wacky and awesome and I thought the kids would be stoked to people watch and run around like banshees. Which, yes.

when in Venice...

... and then I realized that "people watching" isn't as fun when you're one and four and seven so we offroaded the stroller and made ourselves a little sand fort, spent the rest of the day with wet sleeves and no changes of clothes (whoops) and it was totally perfect.

(mostly)

For those who think Los Angeles people are beach people, here is what Venice Beach looked like at 3pm on a Saturday on one of the most beautiful days of the year.

Empty, thy name is local beaches.

And I'm just as guilty. I've lived in Los Angeles for 14 years and have never been in the ocean here. LA beaches makes me nervous with their brown... foamy... garbage. Especially Venice Beach. (We do all our beaching in San Diego where the water is less... brown foamy garbage-y...)

ED: Revi spent our entire two hour beach hang picking up garbage and giving it to me. She was in trash-picker-upper heaven, which I'm all for but also, GROSS. Meanwhile, poor Bo wanted so desperately to be big enough to chase waves but alas...

It's very hard to convince certain toddlers that they are not, in fact, big kids.

Bo is suddenly talking - which is freaking me out because she's still an infant.

She wants to hold everyone's hand at all times and the other day, when she woke from her nap first, snuck back into the bedroom to wake Revi up. I tried to stop her but it was too late. She had already pulled Revi's foot through the crib slit and was screaming, "Babbbbbbyyyyyy (she calls Revi "baby) BAAAAAAAYYYYYBEEEE, nana? Nana? Nana baby, nana." She had a banana in her hand which she proceeded to push into Revi's half asleep mouth.

It was so cute there was nothing I could do but mumble, "don't wake your sister" while dying from cute overload because Bo clearly missed her some Revi and was like, "PSH, Girlfriend is STILL sleeping? She needs to stop it with that and share this delicious banana with me immediately."

I feel like I'm constantly writing about what an incredible brother Archer is (and he is) but so is Fable an amazing big sis and I wanted to take a moment to write about her awesome sisterness.

She takes such great care of "her ladies," especially Bo who is so completely smitten with Fable it's heartbreaking. The look Bo gets on her face when Fable takes her hand is not unlike Angela Chase in the Buffalo Tom hallway scene.

Bo is constantly following Fable around, looking for her, wanting desperately to play with whatever it is she's playing with. Watching her with that "whoa my big sister RULES" face.

Meanwhile, Revi is trying to climb into the top level of the dollhouse because NOBODY IS HERE TO STOP ME AHHHH!!!

Several of you have asked about "quick toddler lunches" and I wanted to drop a quick note about what Bo and Revi typically eat:

Sometimes we do scrambled eggs in place of quinoa, Lentil Bolani from the farmer's market, organic pasta. Because we only do occasional turkey/chicken or fish (once week) Bo, Revi and Fable get most of their protein from eggs, nuts and legumes. (Archer eats turkey sandwiches every day for lunch but Fable, Bo and Revi are pretty much vegetarians.)

Anyway, hopefully this was helpful? I can write a more detailed post if you guys want me to. (Let me know.)

I had one of those weird "oh, shit. I'm old?" moments this week when picking up a new pair of shoes for Hal. I was shopping during the nearby high school's lunch break and Sportie LA was full of teenagers and I was trying on a pair of wedge sneakers because everyone is doing it and one of the girls was like, "those are totally rad" and I was like, "right? I think I'm going to get them?" and she was like, "you SO SUPER should" so I totally bought them and was feeling super awesome about it until the next day when I woke up to wear them and realized that I was not... that... no.

It's kind of like the Urban Outfitters epiphany I had a few years ago when I went to UO and realized my time there was over and I was no longer twenty-two.

I have a hard time reconciling my age and it isn't because I'm afraid of getting old. Not at all. I mean, look at my mother? My grandmothers? My heroines are all between the ages of 50 and 90. Age is power. And yet... I still see myself as a kid. I still feel like a child. I am messy and disorganized and have to fight the angst of adolescence. In my dreams I am always a teenager. Which is very embarrassing to admit because I don't want to be one of those moms. The ones who think their children are their peers and yet... I have to constantly remind myself that I am the authority figure. That I am about to be thirty-two years old. That red Michael Jackson-y wedge sneakers aren't for THIS me but for THAT me which I no longer am.

Anyway, I returned them and went and bought myself a dress instead. A lovely age-appropriate and yet totally me dress.

I'm kind of over trying to rebel against this image that doesn't even exist.

I mean, look around? The "khaki mom" is over. She's done. The most stylish women I know have children. Not because they're making a "statement" but because that's just how they dress. Just like a minivan is just a car.